On neurodivergence

She said, "you can only hold
one thought in your head at a time,"
like a small bird
that falls out of a nest--
delicate, its breaths urgent.

But as she is stating this "fact,"
I do not think that she is correct,
as each of my thoughts
darts
fully formed,
flashes of hummingbirds each time,

and each time, that sharp
little flutter
frightens me
when I mistake it for something else,

then it transforms
and finds a friend to fly with it,
each bird defying what makes sense--

just like each thought begets another--
related, but not always--to tag along.

Pompeii

before the river of fire 

swept across the lands, 

flames fell from the sky, 

and we took 

to each other's arms 

for shelter.

in confusion, we wept,

our hot tears leaving 

deep valleys 

in sloughs of skin.

this is a lesson we cannot tell you.

it has to be shown.

we exist to care for one another. 

it is written in our bones, held 

in our graves as testimony:

large skull, small skull, no flesh--

a mother's long limbs, fingers, 

hold close her child, whose tiny frame

is forever five years old--

whose mother so loved him 

that her last remaining instinct

was to protect him

from elements beyond her control.

it is futile; it is terrible.

it has to be shown.